Kiss me, Kill me
by xAnoMollyx
Summary: Beca is desperately running from her past. And the one person she can trust is the one person she absolutely shouldn't. Will contain violence, blood, some gore, and lots of scary creatures.
1. Chapter 1

**I know, I know... This is most definitely not Carry Me Home...and I really should be focusing on finishing that before taking on another fic...nut this has been burning a hole in my brain lately and I just couldn't help writing it. Stoopid Plot Bunnies... I will be taking lots of liberties with the charact** **ers.**

 **let me know what you think?**

Beca shivered in the crisp evening air and pulled her red hoody tighter around her. She swore under her breath, trying to ignore the cold ** _. You'd think I would have gotten used to it while at the academy_** , she grumbled to herself. But, no. Even after all the years spent training in the bitter, biting cold winter, in the mountains at the academy, she had always complained about the cold. She too much preferred warm weather.

Her Navy blue eyes followed her pluming breath as it escaped her lips. She shook her head. **_Two more blocks and I'll be home,_** she reminded herself. Turning her concentration from her breath to the night around her, she found herself acutely aware of the stillness around her. No, that wasn't quite right. The night didn't feel still, it felt...paused. Like it was waiting for something to happen…

 ** _Ugh, Becs, you're psyching yourself out for no reason_** , she told herself, reaching up and adjusting the onyx pendant that hung from the chain around her neck. Still, Beca couldn't ignore the small hairs that stood on end all over her body. As the breeze picked up slightly, she inhaled deeply through her nose. Faintly she caught the scent of sulfur.

Slowly, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, Beca reached into the left front pocket of her black jeans, curling her cold slender fingers around the spear of quartz resting inside. The feel of the body warmed crystal brought a small sense of security as she focused her other senses on her surroundings.

They sky was hazy, stars barely shining through the city smog. Even the moonlight seemed dulled, it's slightly waning face barely lighting Beca's way home. Goosebumps rose in a wave down the right side of her body as she hurried past a particularly dark alley way.

Something shuffled, unseen, within the shadows of the alley and Beca's heart quickened its pace. But she still kept walking. Drawing her hand from her pocket, leaving the crystal in its cotton cocoon, Beca swallowed down the lump of panic rising in her throat and glanced over her shoulder. The alley was nearly 10 yards behind her now but she could see something emerging from the shadows.

It paused at the edge of the moonlight side walk for only a moment before turning towards Beca and began following her path. **_That_** , she realized as more of the hulking figure became visible, **_is definitely not human..._**

Beca stopped in disbelief, desperately hoping that the haze and her fear were playing tricks on her eyes. What she was seeing behind her, Beca glanced over her shoulder again, no... She couldn't seriously be seeing that. No way.

The stench of sulfur was now unmistakable as the creature continued approaching. Beca could just make out its leathery skin and that it walked on four limbs and appeared to have a tail, swinging behind it. Its neck was short and its head was bird-like, with the exception of its four eyes, with a wickedly sharp looking beak for a mouth. Beca stared down at its feet. Instead of the paws, it walked on what looked like gnarled hands.

Then, faster than Beca had thought possible for something so large, the creature was rushing at her, it's beaked mouth open and a terrible screech issuing from its beak.

Beca dove out of the way, rolling as she hit the ground. When her feet were underneath her, she launched herself up and spun to face the creature. It screeched in annoyance. And then… It spoke.

"Stand still, worm, and let me eat you!" Beca's mouth fell open in shock.

"But...Did you really...Wha...?" she stammered, too flabbergasted to put into words the questions that bubbled in her mind. Instead of answering, the creature lunged for her again. Beca jumped back but the creature's beak caught the front of her jacket. As it lifted her up off the ground she could see the triumph in its reptilian eyes. "Hey! Let me go!" Beca bellowed, launching kicks and punches at her captor's beak. When that didn't seem to persuade him she aimed a wide swinging right hook at one of creature's eyes with her right fist.

There was a sickening squelch as her fist connected and the creature bellowed in pain and anger. But still, its beak remained closed around her jacket. Beca moved to reach for her right boot but the beast, sensing another retaliatory move, began to shake her violently. She curled into herself, holding onto the beak of the monster as best she could as she sailed back and forth with dizzying speed.

 ** _Shit!_** she cursed to herself. **_I can't…keep this up much longer_**. And then, without warning, Beca was tumbling downward, the creature's screeching nearly making her deaf, landing on her backside and knocking the breath from her body. **_Don't… Don't just lay there_** , she yelled at herself, struggling to pull breath into her lungs. **_Move!_**

With lungs screaming from their sudden expulsion of air and a dull ringing in her ears, Beca rolled over. When her feet were finally beneath her, she reached into her right boot and pulled out the knife she kept there. It was nothing special, certainly not in comparison to the knives used by her former comrades. Just a run of the mill double edged hunting knife with a four inch blade. Not too big to be noticeable under her pant leg but big enough to intimidate most would be aggressors. The handle was carved from some sort of antler, Beca didn't remember what species donated it, but years of use had worn the grooves smooth and its weight was comfortable and familiar. Holding it was like shaking hands with an old friend, and Beca felt her confidence surge.

She steadied her stance and looked to her attacker, reading herself for another attack. But the monster was busy grappling with something-no, some ONE else. Beca's battle stance faltered.

"What the...hell?" she muttered as her eyes tried to make sense of what she saw before her. This new person was human. At least, she thought so. He was so quick, darting in to strike at the leathery skin of the creature with one of the two short blades he held in his hands. His reactions and the speed at which he dodged and parried the attacks of the creature where nearly impossible for Beca's eyes to follow. **_His mouth_** , she gasped inwardly. It took a moment to realize that the giant, maliciously grinning mouth filled with razor sharp teeth was actually a painted mask, covering the lower half the new comer's face.

 ** _Is he a hunter?_** She wondered. But why would he be alone? And he didn't fight like a typical hunter. Perhaps he was trained somewhere besides the academy? It was unusual but not unheard of. But still, why would he be out alone? "What the hell is going on?" she grumbled.

"Guilder," the creature snapped with a voice that reminded Beca of the sound of metal grinding together. It batted one of its hideous hands at the masked stranger. "don't you have anything better to do than interrupt some one's meal." Beca looked back at the man in the mask. Their eyes met for an instant and she felt jolt shoot through her body. Even from a distance his eyes were striking. His eyes were a nearly unnatural frosted blue lined by a thick fringe of dark lashes. But he quickly turned his attention back to the creature.

"See, this why we have a problem, you stupid Ravager. Had you just stuck to eating vagrants, or animals, or just fucking hid the scraps a little better, I wouldn't be here. But **_you_** ate the son of a senator last week. A senator who happens to be in the pocket of one of the Guild's Elders. "

 ** _The Guild?_** Beca felt her heart sink at the mention of The Guild, her bravado seeping out of her. **_I need to get out of here,_** she realized. She took a slow step back, hoping not to call attention to herself.

"You are one to talk," the beast countered. "Here you are revealing yourself right in front of that worthless scrap of meat." Beca froze when the creature turned its gaze to her. She could feel its hunger, its need to consume her, nearly rippling the air around it. The man merely snorted in dismissal.

"One glamour and she'll only remember what I want her to," again, Beca's eyes locked with the masked stranger's. "I may even get to play with her for a bit," Beca balked at what the stranger was eluding to, his smirking gaze halting her escape. "and I won't get in any trouble for it. You wanna know why? Because I have fucking control, you belly crawling piece of shit!"

The creature roared and charged. Beca watched the man easily side step, vaulting up the beast's body and slashing across its back. The monster bellowed in frustration, thrashing his head before charging. Each time he lunged for the masked man he only snatched at empty space. Beca could tell the creature was getting angrier by the second. Suddenly it turned it's wild gaze upon Beca. She could almost see the idea forming in its head. Raising the hand still clutching her knife, she drew in a slow breath and tried to focus.

"Give up already?" the man taunted. But the creature had stopped listening to his barbs. Instead it was focused on Beca. Even if she hadn't had her eyes trained on the creature she would have felt its malicious gaze upon her. Its fury rolled off of him in waves, nearly rocking her back with their intensity. Beca shuddered as she continued to stare at the creature, searching for the slightest sign that he was going to take his frustration out on what he considered easier prey.

Beca felt time slow down as the creature took a few steps toward her, she heard the man in the mask calling out to gain it's attention back and then cursing when it didn't work. **_So much for escaping unnoticed_** , she thought ruefully.

Once again, Beca found herself being charged by the monster. But, this time, her knife in hand, Beca was ready for him. She took off, rushing at the beast, taking it off guard. Using its surprise to her advantage, she ducked beneath him and slashed at the surprisingly soft underside. A spray of brackish fluid splattered to the dirty concrete. Beca did not pause to celebrate, however. She was already rolling out from underneath the creature, slashing at one of his hand-like feet for good measure.

But the creature seemed to have anticipated that sort of move and swung its thick tail in retaliation. Beca grunted as the flailing appendage struck her, sending her rolling a several feet. As she got back to her feet Beca could see the masked man darting forward to drive one of his blades into the side of the creature.

While it was preoccupied with the man in the mask, Beca rushed to the other side of the creature and drove her knife into its belly, dragging it a few inches to widen the wound. The creature howled in pain and began to thrash and flail, trying to fend off the two attackers. Now working in tandem, Beca and the man struck at the creature, wounding it and splattering its blood all over the ground. Finally, collapsing to the ground, the creature keened and then moved no more.

Breathing heavily, Beca leaned against the brick wall of a building and stared at the dead monster. **_Finally_** , she thought in exhaustion. She looked down at herself in annoyance. She was covered in greenish black...goo... "I really liked this hoodie, too," she grumbled. "I wonder if this washes out?"

"You!" Beca looked up at the stranger who was marching toward her, one of his blades pointed at her. **_Shit! He knows, she thought_** , fighting panic. Beca straightened up, immediately bracing for another attack. "Who are you? Why are you after MY bounty? I was assigned to that Ravager. And you're fucking stoned if you think I'm going to split the money with you."

Beca blinked in confusion, staring at the man before her. Being so close now to the stranger in the mask, she could take in every detail about him. His skin was paler than hers, though held an olive tint to it, and his black hair was short on the sides but long on top, a few strands dusting his eyebrows and shading his eyes. His eyes, Beca realized with a jolt, were a nearly unnatural frosted blue lined by a thick fringe of dark lashes.

"What are you?" Beca felt herself asking aloud, though she already knew the answer. Immediately, the icy orbs were focused on her and Beca could clearly see the annoyance in them.

"The fuck does that have to do with anything?" he demanded. "I asked you first anyways." Beca stared at him in confusion and he sighed in annoyance. "Who **_are_** you and why were you after **_my_** bounty?" he repeated slowly.

"I'm not any one," she replied in a tone that clearly conveyed her dislike of his patronizing attitude. "and your 'bounty' was after me. I was merely defending myself."

"Yeah," the man continued, his gaze piercing, and Beca had the suspicion he didn't believe her. "about that; where did you learn to fight like that? As far as I know, the Guild doesn't take humans on as assassins."

 ** _Assassins_** , Beca repeated slowly in her mind. Everything about this man in front of her suddenly made sense. The reason he wore the mask was so that he couldn't be identified by other Underworlders while he was on an assignment. The strange man before her was an assassin for The Guild. An organization meant to police and protect Underworlders and keep the general human population from getting wise to the existence of Demons and Vampires and Werewolves and Ravagers and the many other creatures that Humans would fear.

Beca swallowed nervously. She needed to get away from this man right now. Her grip tightened on the handle of the knife she held. Even that minute movement was notice by her new foe.

"Who. Are. You?" he repeated and Beca saw is body tense.

"I'm no one," she insisted. Quicker than her eyes could track, the man brought his arm up. She felt a chill run through her when the sharp edge of his blade, a black 6 inch tanto, rested against the side of her neck.

"How 'bout you drop the knife, and then answer my question," he suggested. Beca glanced down at her own knife. She sighed. **_So much for keeping a low profile,_** she thought dejectedly. She brought her gaze back up looked back at the man in the mask. Their eyes met once more and she felt another jolt shoot through her body.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't do that," she told him evenly. He blinked in surprise.

"Huh?" faster than he was expecting, she drew her leg up and kicked out at him. He moved to dodge and she swung her fist out at his head. Again, he moved out of the way and she used her momentum to spin around and swing her leg out. This time she managed to hit him and she smiled at his grunt from the impact of her kick.

"Punta!" she heard him growl. "Te matere!" Beca had no clue what he was saying but she could guess he wasn't complimenting her form and fighting ability. She needed to get her back away from the wall.

She threw herself to her left and scrambled to distance herself from the wall as much as possible. She already had the disadvantage of fighting an Underworlder with no help, she didn't need to impede herself further by limiting her space to move...or run. She jammed her hand into her pocket and withdrew her crystal, holding it out in front of her with one hand, while her other hand still held her knife.

"What the fuck is the rock for?" her opponent scoffed. Beca exhaled and focused on the crystal in her hand. The man laughed again, shaking his head. He took a step forward.

"Don't take another step," Beca warned him.

"Or what?" he challenged, taking another step. "What can you do to stop m-"

Beca thrust her hand out in front of herself, opening her fist and holding the crystal between her thumb and forefinger and released the mental hold she had on the stone. She felt a pulse from the crystal seconds before a concussive wave of magic flew from the faceted rock and impacted with her approaching opponent. With a gasp of surprise, the man in the mask was knocked to his back.

"I said don't take another step!" Beca growled, allowing her lips to pull into a smirk. She bit back a laugh. The surprise on the man's face had been priceless. She watched as he got back to his feet, his icy glare sending a shudder through her. Slowly he reached up with one hand and pulled his mask down from his face to hang around his neck.

"Wytch," he spat. He drew his other blade, another tanto, before getting to his feet. Beca stared at him, goosebumps rising along her flesh. She could feel the power of his aura swelling with his anger. "This must be my lucky day," he continued, taking a step towards her again. Beca swallowed thickly, trying to not let her nervousness show. "The guild pays a huge bonus to anyone who manages to find a Wytch."

"I'm not a Wytch," Beca corrected.

"You're lying. The only humans that can do magic are Wytches." Beca grit her teeth.

"I'm a hunter, you idiot. I just happen to have some Wytch ancestors." the man smiled cruelly and Beca felt her nervousness spike.

"A Hunter?" he repeated. "Even better. I'm really gonna enjoy this."

"that little push was just a warning!" Beca told him, hoping her voice sounded more confident than she actually was. "I won't be so gentle with my next shot."

"I never did like gentle girls," he teased, taking another step forward.

"Look, I'm not looking for any kind of trouble. I just want to be on my way home." Without warning the man was on her, slashing at her with his blades. It was all she could do to block what hits she could and try to dodge the rest. She wasn't as quick as he was. Several of his strikes managed to slash across her, tearing through the fabric of her clothing and slicing her flesh. She wouldn't last long like this.

She managed to shove him back a few feet. He stood there grinning at her for a moment. Then he brought one of his tantos up to his mouth and licked her blood from the blade. His mouth split into a frightening grin.

"You taste good, Hunter," he chuckled. She could see fangs peaking from begin his lips. **_Vampire_** , Beca whispered to herself. That explains a lot. She couldn't win a battle against a vampire. Not by herself. Not without help. Or leverage. She flicked her gaze up to his frosty glare and suddenly felt her body begin to go limp. Her vision clouded. She could see nothing but those eyes.

She thought she could hear someone whispering to her…

"It's been a few years since I've drank Hunter's blood. I'm really gonna enjoy this." the words echo in her head and Beca could swear she felt lips against the whorls of her ear. It wasn't until she felt the cold edge of a blade at her throat that she made her move. Reaching to the chain around her neck, Beca yanked hard enough to snap it. Then, grasping the onyx pendant, she pressed her palm into the solar plexus of the vampire standing before her.

Her vision cleared suddenly, the fog in her brain vanishing. The vampire stood, melded to her body, a hand wrapped around her back to keep her flush against him. She could see the shock in his eyes before he gasped and crumpled to the ground at her feet. Now that he was incapacitated, the glamour he had placed on her vanished. She could move freely.

"What...what have you done to me?" he groaned, glaring up at her from the ground. Beca glanced down at the onyx stone in her hand.

"This rock," she explained, "I wear it so that my aura is dampened and Underworlders will think that I am human. But when it touches an Underworlder in just the right spot it temporarily drains them of strength and power. Kind of like a Glamour." she glared down at her attacker. He met her own glare with a fierce gaze.

"Go on then, Hunter," he growled. "What are you waiting for? Kill me."

Beca stared down at him, unsure. He wasn't just some random Underworlder. This man was an assassin for The Guild. If she killed him he would be missed, The Guild Elders would investigate what happened to him. And if they found out that there was a Hunter in their city… And it wasn't like she could ask for help from the Hunter's Coalition. She glanced back down at the helpless vampire. A plan was forming in her mind

"Look, I'm not a Hunter anymore," she murmured slowly. "I…left that life behind me."

"that makes no difference to me. And it will make no difference to The Guild either. As soon as they find out you're here they will have you killed. You will pay for the lives you and you kind have taken."

"what if I pay you not to tell?"

"you have nothing I want!" he spat, glaring at her.

"what if I gave you the sun?" Beca watched as confusion replaced the contempt on his face

"You...what?" She held up the onyx again for the vampire to see.

"See this? I have more of these. I can tweak the magic in it so that it will allow you to be in the sunlight without dying."

"What?"

"I can give this stone. All you have to do is let me go. The magic will last for two weeks, roughly. That's two whole weeks in the sun. You can have it just as long as you let me go. Deal?" He stared at her in disbelief. Slowly he sat up.

"why?"

"why what?"

"why are you bribing me? Why aren't you killing me?"

"I told you. I'm not a hunter anymore."

"what's to stop me from killing you and taking the stone anyways?" Beca paused to consider her words carefully.

"Nothing, I suppose. One Hunter is not much of a match against a Vampire. But if you don't kill me...and you don't tell anyone at the Guild that there is a Hunter in the city, then when this stone is used up I will...recharge it, so to speak." Beca let her ultimatum sink in for a moment. "Look at it this way, the longer I stay alive the longer you get to play in the daylight."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two is up! A little more back story on Beca and just a smidge about our vampire!**

It was the sensation of falling, rather than the nightmare that woke Beca milliseconds before she hit the floor. Not in time to avoid the jarring impact of the cold and rough hardwood against her left shoulder and hip, of course, but at least she was able to save her head from colliding with the floor in a tangle of bed sheets. Immediately her reflexes sprang action. Gasping one ragged breath after the other, still reeling from the impact and adrenaline, she kicked herself free of her blankets and scrambled to her feet, snatching the knife she kept hidden between the mattress and boxsprings. Her eyes searched the darkened room frantically, looking for any sign of danger. When she found nothing more threatening than an oversized pile of dirty laundry in the far corner she tried to swallow the lump in her throat while she willed her heart rate to slow and her breathing to return to normal. "Fuck," she whispered harshly. She neatly stowed her knife back in its hiding place. "Fuck." Bringing her trembling hands to her face, Beca worked to slow her panting breaths and clear her mind of the nightmare.

Beca's life had been violent and bloody since she could remember, one of the perks of being born into a prestigious and prolific family of Hunters. She had trained with the best, learned from the best, hunted alongside the best. She had killed her first Underworlder, a young Kelpie-a shape shifting water spirit that often takes the form of a horse or human to lure unsuspecting victims into the water, where they are devoured-that had been terrorizing a small town for months when she was fourteen. It had been a messy kill, Beca was still learning finesse with her hand to hand combat skills, and the silver tipped spear was long for her petite stature. She'd been spattered with muck from the banks of the river she'd tracked it to and smeared with the blood of the Kelpie by the time the fight was through. But her teacher had congratulated her on the kill with a pat to the back, and her classmates had whooped in excitement. And Beca had smiled, spitting blood from her mouth and wiping it from her face.

No, blood and violence had never bothered Beca. It wasn't monsters and gore that set her heart racing and her blood pounding in her ears with fright. It was the faces of those she loved…of those she had betrayed that haunted her dreams every night.

Her breathing was finally returning to a normal pace when she heard her front door open. _**Ugh, he's back**_ , she grunted silently. She bent to pick up the crumpled sheet from the floor, thankful that he hadn't been home during her episode. _**He would have come in here for sure.**_ The guy had no respect for personal boundaries. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 5:50 am, it read. Still a few more hours before she had to be at work. Maybe, if she tried really hard, she could get a little more sleep.

* * *

The bell above the door jangled as it opened and suddenly Beca could feel eyes on her as she wiped down a freshly washed pilsner. It happened often, being a 'human' working in a bar whose patrons were usually...not quite human.

It wasn't easy getting used to being thought of as weaker, or as a possible food source, depending of the type of patron. Especially when she was trained to be able to eviscerate most of them. But, seeing as she was paid to cater to the average whim of whatever Underworlder came into the bar-within reason- she couldn't very well go around threatening the well-being of her customers. Her tips would suffer greatly for sure.

She had tried working in exclusively human establishments but found it more than slightly frustrating to be around the oblivious and their refusal to see the world around them for what it really was. Besides, Beca found that she simply just did not fit in with people who were oblivious of Underworlders. It was impossible to explain why she refused to try to sell shoes to a customer because he was, in fact, Aswang- a ghoul like monster that appears normal during the day time, with an affinity for eating small children- who was more than likely only in the shoe section perusing for unsuspecting victims.

Working as a barkeep at the Wolfe Trapp, or The Trapp as most patrons called it, wasn't too bad of a job. And quite frankly, it was the best Beca could hope for with no prior experience in any job field and without references. Plus, they paid her in cash and didn't seem to care that she could not provide any background information or proof of who she was.

It wasn't a large, or fancy establishment. It was quite literally a hole in the wall dive bar, barely big enough to contain its six booths, and bar, and tiny cramped office in the back. There was no sign on the door, no marquee to advertise that The Trapp was even a bar, but there were always customers at all times of the day and night

She was far from being the only human in The Trapp. In fact, there were several humans working with her, and the owner, a grizzled old Werewolf named Grey, sought to make sure his establishment could cater to both human and non-human patrons alike. Provided, of course that the patrons and bar staff refrained from fighting and spilling blood. There were health codes to adhere to, after all.

Trying to be nonchalant, Beca peeked through the dark strands of her hair that hung over her eyes to see who was watching her. Her gaze moved to the door to the bar, where she found a man shaking of the fall drizzle from his clothes. She recognized the newcomer immediately. The worn, leather Bomber jacket. The shaggy black hair. The black converse he wore on his feet. The cocky grin on his fiendishly handsome face. The confidant and predatory way he held himself. Oh yeah, she knew him at once.

Jesse had been a dog to the military when he'd been human. And rumor had it, he'd been just as ruthless when he was human as he was as a vampire. He had left a long and bloody trail in the wake of his fledgling years. Being an assassin for The Guild suited his reputation, though it was a well kept secret-not much point in being an assassin if everyone knew what you were. He was ruthless, and bloodthirsty. He enjoyed his work. And he was very, **very** good at it.

She felt a nervous trill in her body as she took in the vampire, who was staring right at her. She drew in a calming breath as she watched him make his way from the entrance to the bar, headed right for her. In no time, he was pulling a barstool back from the counter and moving so that he perched on it, one foot resting on the stool, the other resting flat on the floor. A seemingly nonchalant pose but, Beca knew better. It kept his balance grounded and made it easier and quicker to gain his feet in case of danger. It was a typical pose for patrons at the bar who regularly expected trouble. Or caused it, as the case may be.

"Let me guess," Beca drawled in her perfected Midwestern accent, lifting her pale face to set her steely gaze upon this dangerous newcomer. "You wanna Bloody Mary, heavy on the blood." A flash of teeth left her heart picking up its pace, though from his bared fangs or his roguish grin, she wasn't quite sure. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to either, no matter how many times she saw them.

"You ever get tired of that joke, Bec?" Jesse sighed. Beca snorted, setting the pilsner down and fixing him with a bored look. He seemed to consider her for a second before flashing another smile. "How much for some of your blood?"

"You know I don't donate to leeches," Beca snapped before she could stop herself. **_Old habits_** , she cursed inwardly, biting her cheek. Jesse merely chuckled, unfazed.

"Worth asking," he replied, shrugging.

"What do you want, Jesse?"

"I need a favor. It's for work."

"Work? What the hell could you possibly need my help for with your…'work'?" Beca eyed him suspiciously, lowering her voice. Jesse glanced quickly around the bar before leaning closer to her and lowering his own voice.

"Listen, you remember that Fae that got the jump on me?"

"Like I could forget," Beca sighed, picking up an abandoned Coors bottle from the bar and tossing it into the trash can. "That asshole is the entire reason I can't seem to get you out of my hair. Or off of my couch, for that matter."

"I found him." Beca lifted her eyes back to Jesse's face warily. A surge of unease left her drawing in a deep breath and ghosting her fingers over the unnoticeable hilt tucked under the beltline of her jeans, where her knife was hidden. The motion did not escape Jesse's notice. "But…I need your help to kill him."

"Kill him?"

"Well, yeah. Attacking a Guild associate, thought would be me, is a pretty quick way to get you on The Guild's Shit-List. Clearly he was outta line-"

"Even though he was avenging his brother that you killed," Beca interjected. Jesse rolled his eyes.

"That's besides the point," he replied dismissively before continuing. "Anyways, the Elders said to bring him in dead or alive, and after what that bastard did to me, dead is the favorable option."

"Jesse…I can't," she whispered. Her gaze fell to the wooden bartop bar that separated them.

"The fuck you can't, Beca," he growled. "You're just as deadly as I am. Maybe more, if you're PMSing." Beca glared at him, turning to walk away. Jesse reached out over the bar top and caught her arm before she could take a step and turned her back around to face him. "What's the deal? You didn't have any problem fighting him last time." Beca leaned over the bar so that Jesse could hear her plainly, though her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Last time I wasn't trying to kill him. Last time I was only trying to save you. I swore, Jesse. I swore when I left my old life behind that I would never get caught up in that shit ever again. I'm not fighting other people's battles. Besides, what if someone saw me? They would know what I was. I would be killed, either by the Guild, or by," she dropped her voice even lower so that only Jesse could hear her "Hunters."

"You won't get caught," he assured her. "No one else knows where this guy is but me. And besides, after four years of hiding, you know well enough how to cover your tracks."

"No." Beca said flatly. Jesse tried one last angle.

"C'mon, Bec. You said yourself that I was the closest thing to a friend that you have in this life. Help me out. Help your friend out. Help me survive this. Make sure I can continue to be your bodyguard." He gazed pleadingly at her through his long lashes. Before Beca could throw up her mental guards, she felt herself staring dumbly into his honey brown irises. In an instant she was caught in his gaze.

Jesse had been good to her over the years, she found herself thinking. He had kept her secret from The Guild, at great cost to himself if it was ever found out that he had not reported finding a rogue Hunter. And he had been kind enough to spare her when he had first met her. Because that was the kind of person he was…kind…

That last thought didn't quite settle right. Beca felt a nudging doubt near the back of her thoughts.

 ** _Focus on my eyes, damnit._** That last thought definitely felt foreign but Beca felt herself staring deeper into Jesse's eyes.

Jesse's eyes… He really did have lovely eyes. Such a pretty, honey hazel color. But there were strange, ice blue flecks beginning to bleed into the brown. In two, maybe three days, the blue would spread, drowning out the brown. **_The magic is beginning to fade_** , Beca realized, jarring her back into her senses. She shook her head to clear her subconscious of the glamour Jesse, her 'friend', had tried to weave. **_Damn Vampire_** , she cursed inwardly, glaring at him.

"Bodyguard? The only reason you protect me is to keep me alive so you recharge your stone," she scoffed. "Besides, I already saved your ass once and I haven't been able to get you out of my apartment since! I don't need a damn body guard! I need you to not use my shampoo and leave wet towels on my living room floor anymore. I need you to stop barging into my room without so much as a knock. I need you to quit sleeping on my couch every single night!"

Jesse stared blankly at her for a second before sighing and rolling his eyes. "Okay, fine," he huffed. "You help me take this guy out and I'll crash at my own place from now on. And you'll only see me when my stone needs a refill."

"Deal." Jesse's eyes widened in shock at her acquiescence, before he smirked teasingly at her.

"Ya know, that's kind of fucked up, Beca."

"It's not even!" she growled impatiently, picking up the pilsner she had been wiping when he had walked in and began re-washing it. "The only reason you're asking me is to get revenge on some Fearie guy that got the best of you. Not to mention the fact that you'll probably get paid for killing him. And I won't see one single bit of that money; even though I'm the one with rent to pay and groceries to buy. You're basically asking me to do you a favor without any benefit on my part." When she lifted her gaze back up to his face he was staring at her blankly. She narrowed her eyes. "You have no idea what the word 'Friend' even means, Jesse. Now leave, you're making my customers nervous." She turned quickly on her heal and marched over to a pale man, with feathers in his hair, who had just sat down at the bar.

Jesse stared after her for a moment more before lifting himself up off his stool and walking out of the bar into the drizzle outside.

"That one ain't nothin but trouble, girl." Beca turned and met the scrutinizing gaze of Stacy, the other barkeep. Beca blushed, and busied herself making the drink her customer had ordered. "I mean it," Stacy insisted, coming to stand next to Beca as she plunked the pilsner down in front of the pale, feathered man.

"Trust me, I have no intention of letting Jesse get me into trouble," Beca assured her. She looked up and met Stacy's gaze.

"Beca, Grey has worked very hard at keeping this place a neutral zone for Underworlders. No feuds allowed on the property, no quarrels and no feeding on patrons or bar staff, even the human ones. But Jesse likes to play by his own rules and flouts his Guild connections every chance he gets." Stacy sighed. "And when it comes down to him or someone else, Jesse always chooses himself. Always." Beca turned her gaze to her shoes, feeling the weight of Stacy's warning settings heavily in her thoughts. "Just keep that in mind, would ya?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so I broke down and decided to split this chapter, which is entirely a flashback, into two. It was just turning out to be waaaaayyy too long. So, here is the first part! please let me know what you think! Thanks!**

 **Also, for those who don't know Spanish-which is the language that Jesse speaks some times- I will include the translations at the end of the chapter. My spanish is pretty rusty, so if any of my readers notice that I have gotten it wrong, please tell me!**

***flashback _*** 6 months earlier_

Beca shivered slightly as the cold wind snaked its way through the cotton of her long sleeved shirt.

The day had started warm enough for mid-April, though the wind still held a bite to it. But, now that the sun was setting, the temperature was dropping below what she considered comfortable. Beca had thought nothing of it though as she had dressed and gotten ready for work that morning, deciding to forgo bringing her hoodie with her. She wasn't expecting for Jesse to call the bar, asking for her to meet him after her shift to recharge his stone. She really shouldn't have been surprised though, he'd been an inconvenience from the get go.

That night they met, the night she had dangled the opportunity of being able to survive in the sunlight, he'd insisted that she perform the spell immediately. He'd watched her intently, not hiding his suspicion. When she'd finished and handed the stone to him he had grasped her by the collar, dragging her along with him as he made his way over to one of the warehouses in the street they were on, kicking a door in and shoving her inside.

There they waited for sunrise, Jesse repeating threats of disembowelment and dismemberment if she had tricked him. He'd been quite inventive about it, making sure to flip on of his tantos in his hand while talking to add to the threat. It had been a long night, Beca was tired but refused to lower her defenses enough to fall asleep in front of a Vampire, and her clothes stank from the blood and viscera from the Ravager. But, finally, the sun rose and filtered through the dank and musty air of the warehouse.

Jesse had shot to his feet, yanking Beca up after him and marched over to the kicked in door where the rays of the sun were just beginning to edge their way in. With one last threat against her life if she had tricked him, he'd let go of her and hesitantly reached his hand out, pausing for a moment, before finally thrusting it from the shadow and into the sun.

Beca cupped her hands in front of her mouth and blew into them, trying to warm her fingers, and thinking of the look of disbelief on Jesse's face as he'd stared at his hand.

When it had been clear that the stone Beca had given him was not a trick he stepped out from the warehouse and into the morning light. Beca had stayed in the shadows, watching him. She could only the back of him but her eyes tracked the movements of his arms as he'd raised them and rubbed quickly at his face. She'd wondered if he was crying but when he'd turned around, his eyes were dry.

"I'll find you in two weeks," he'd told her and then he was walking away, leaving Beca too stunned to even ask how he would know where she was.

But find her, he did two weeks later. Demanding that she recharge the stone and threatening to slit her throat. And then, two weeks after that. And two weeks after that. On her way home from work, at the QuickStop where she was buying milk. At the shoe store, while she was busy side eyeing that stupid Aswang again-perhaps she should actually try to warn the clerk about that guy-while she was stomping out of yet another restaurant that had fired her. Beca thought perhaps he had managed to slip some kind of tracking device on her, though that was unlikely. Or perhaps he was able to scry...that too seemed a bit of a stretch. When she'd asked him about it, he merely changed the subject. He seemed to enjoy approaching her when it was most in opportune.

Thus, there she stood, cursing the chill of the wind and herself for not bringing her jacket, one the last block of the warehouse district, one street away from where the project housing began.

"That motherfucker would ask me to meet him close to the bad part of the city," she grumbled.

"Is that anyway to speak about your benefactor?" Beca spun around, immediately pulling her knife from its sheath tucked into her belt, to see Jesse standing behind her. She hadn't even heard him approaching. "Woah! Easy there, Tiger!"

"You know I don't like it when you do that shit," she growled. "And what do you mean, Benefactor? What the hell have you done to help me?" She watched as he smirked, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall of the building they were standing next to, an old mattress factory that was closed for the night. Beca eyed his worn out bomber jacket in annoyance and more than just a little bit of jealousy.

"Well, you're still alive, ain't ya?" Beca snorted and rolled her eyes. "You gonna put that thing away?" Beca watched as he eyed the blade of her knife.

"Afraid I might hurt you?" she groused, tucking her blade back into its sheath. Even though they appeared to have some sort of truce, Beca was still loath to leave herself without a weapon in hand in front of a vampire.

" _No me astusas_ ," he chuckled, and Beca watched as he traced the tip of his tongue along his sharp teeth.

"Yeah, I don't speak…whatever that is," she growled, trying not to shiver as another cold gust of air blew through her clothes. "Can we just get this over with?"

"It's Spanish, genius. Didn't you ever learn any in school?" Beca glared at him, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears.

"No. I didn't have any time between Demonology homework and Hand to Hand Combat Training. Are we done pretending to have a conversation? I'm cold and I want to go home," she answered blandly. It was Jesse's turn to roll his eyes.

"I'm guessing you didn't learn humor at school either," he sighed, holding out the onyx for Beca to snatch away quickly. She spared one last icy glare his way before closing her eyes and concentrating on the stone in her hands.

"This stone is nearly drained," she muttered in annoyance, opening on of her eyes to stare at it. "Hasn't it only been 12 days since I charged it last?" She looked back up at him, studying him. The Sun is still heading towards the horizon, but the buildings around them kept the street mostly in shadow. She looks into his eyes, which are a frosty blue instead of warm brown. Jesse shrugged under her scrutiny. "I've been taking extra jobs." Beca sighed in annoyance.

"The more you fight while wearing this, the more quickly you'll go through the crystal's power," she chastised.

"What does it matter anyways? It's not like I don't have nifty little crystal recharger to go to if I need a refill sooner than expected." Beca narrowed her eyes in a glare.

"You know, charging this crystal isn't like flicking a Gods damn switch, Jesse. It takes time and a lot of energy. Besides, what if you're defeated and someone took the crystal from you? They could trace it back to me!"

"You worry too much, Bec. Besides-"

"Guilder!" a voice roared. Jesse and Beca both spun to face the speaker who stood across the street. Beca stared in shock. There stood one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. He was tall, with skin so smooth and fair he almost seemed to glow in the dying light of the sun. His eyes were large, a mossy green and his glossy black hair was tied back into a low pony tail at the nape of his neck. His build was slim, a sharp contrast to Jesse's broad shoulders. His face was angular, with high cheek bones and a sharp chin. Beca took in everything about him, but with no horns, wings, feathers, or scales she was at a loss for identifying what this man was. Perhaps he was human? Beca didn't think so. Something felt…off. She looked back to Jesse, who was scowling.

"Sylvann," he muttered. "I wondered when he would try to track me down. I killed his brother last week for selling items laced with Faerie magic to humans."

"How'd he know it was you? Don't you always wear your mask?"

"Sylvann has friends in the Guild. A lot of Faeries do, even though the Seelie and Unseelie Courts pretty much operate separately from the Guild . They love secrets and intrigue."

"Faeries?" Beca whispered. That explained the looks. She had only briefly studied them. But never had the chance to fight one. The thing about Faeries was that they were tricky to capture and even harder to kill. Suddenly the onyx she held was ripped from her grasp. "Hey!" she snarled.

"Get lost. _Ahora_ ," Jesse said gruffly, shoving the stone into the pocket of his jacket, before walking across the street to where Sylvann stood. **_Ugh, what the fuck does that even mean?_** Beca grumbled. For a moment, as she watched approached the Faerie, she briefly entertained the idea of picking up a couple books to help her learn some Spanish. **_Just to make sure that Jesse isn't saying anything rude. Well, more rude than usual_**. She swept her eyes from Jesse's back to the gorgeous Fae once more. She brought her left hand up to finger the onyx that hung around her neck. She debated taking it off and trying to sense Sylvann...but decided against it. It was too risky to leave herself open, even if briefly. There was no telling who or what was nearby that may sense her using her powers.

The wind blew once more and as Beca blinked she thought she saw Sylvann _flicker._ _ **What…was that?**_ she wondered. She shook her head and tried to focus her sight the Faerie as he stood before Jesse. Moving slowly so that she wouldn't be noticed, Beca pulled her knife from her sheath and turned her back to Jesse and Sylvann. She brought the blade up level with her eyes and angled it so that she can see the street behind her. Beca adjusted the angle slowly until she found Jesse in its reflection. She tweaked the angle again to find Sylvann but he wasn't there.

"That's…odd," she muttered. Jesse appeared to be talking to empty space. "It's a Glamour!" She realized. Suddenly there was a flash of color at the edge of the blade's reflection. Beca moved her knife once more and finally found Sylvann, coming at Jesse from behind, a long blade in his hand. "Jesse!" she shouts, turning around. She watched as Jesse turned to stare at her in confusion. "Behind you!"

Beca looked around franticly for something-anything-to fight with. **_How do you fight Faerie?! Bells? Bread! No…_** "Ugh!" she growled. Suddenly her eyes landed on the barred windows of the mattress factory. "Iron! Shit…" **_This is gonna hurt…a lot_** , Beca grumbled as she dashed forward to the window, grabbing one of the iron bars and focusing her magic into it.

As soon as her palms and fingers touched the cold bar, she could feel her flesh begin to burn. Beca grit her teeth against the pain and tried to ignore the sensation of her skin burning. She focused her concentration at the joints of the bar. When they began to glow red with heat she braced herself and pulled with all of her might. Beca's palms sizzled and her muscled screamed in effort, but finally the bar broke free. She stepped back from the window and turned back around in time to see Sylvann slice his dagger across Jesse's chest.

Jesse's surprised grunt and the sound of his shirt ripping echoed in the stillness of the twilight. Beca watched as he looked down at the blood blooming and soaking into the fabric of his shirt. The shock on his face as he looked back up hit her like a fist to the gut and suddenly, it was no longer Jesse that Beca was seeing. She gasped at the memories and the fear that ripped at her, sprinting forward with her impromptu weapon. Five quick strides and she was within striking distance.

Sylvann, of course, was ready for her since her approach was anything but stealthy. Beca braced her feet, bending her knees and lowering herself enough to make a power strike at his middle body. She'd given up a chance for a surprise attack so hopefully she could use speed and power to take him off guard. Luck seemed to be with her tonight and the bar struck Sylvann's hip with a loud thwack. Beca thought she could hear bone crunch, but it was the howl of pain that brought a satisfied smirk to her face as the bar tore through his clothes and flesh. She could hear his flesh sizzle.

Beca squared her shoulders and turned her hard gaze to the face of the wounded Faerie before her. His face, which she had thought almost angelic before was now demonic looking, pain and fury warping his sharp features. He bared his teeth, which Beca was shocked to see were all pointed like fangs, in aggression, raising his knife, and she raised her bar once more like a baseball bat. She had no experience fighting Fae, the bar was heavier than she would prefer, her hands ached and she was sure that the flesh of her hands were blistered completely, but she refused to show her pain.

"I thought Guild Assassins worked alone," Sylvann hissed, glancing back and forth between Beca and Jesse. Beca flicked her own eyes over to Jesse. He had drawn both of his tantos and held them blade up, in a hammer hold, ready to fight.

"Not today," Jesse growled and Beca could hear his annoyance loud and clear. She turned her attention back to Sylvann. She watched as he sized her up, eyeing the bar she held.

"It's iron, asshole," she warned him. "And I got a lot more than that little love tap left in me." The Faerie hissed at her through his teeth, backing away a few steps. Beca followed him, stepping forward to keep him within striking distance, and from the corner of her vision she saw Jesse surge forward. Sylvann turned quickly, lashing out with his blade at Jesse, who twisted to avoid being slashed for a second time. As Sylvann pivoted, raising his leg and kicking Jesse while he was off-balance, Beca swung the iron bar in a wide arc at Sylvann's shoulder. It connected and Beca grinned at his pained grunt. She immediately swung again, this time pivoting and reversing her direction to gain more momentum. She missed this time, and Sylvann backed away a few more steps.

"This isn't over," he snarled before turning and running away. Beca stared in shock after his retreating figure.

"Hey!" she called out after Sylvann. "I thought you said this wasn't over!" He didn't even look back. She whirled around to Jesse to find him kneeling on the ground, tucking his tantos back into their sheaths under his jacket. **_He must have been knocked down when he got kicked_** , she realized. "Why is he running away?" she demanded. **_Please don't tell me I just burned the shit out of my hands for no fucking reason._**

 ****"Faeries aren't really big on fighting actual battles," Jesse grunted, shaking his head. ** _So…I just burned the shit out of my hands for no fucking reason,_** Beca sighed in disgust, dropping the iron bar to the concrete with a loud clang. She let her head drop back as she rolled her eyes skyward. **_Could this night possibly get any worse?_**

"Any ways, I thought I told you to get lost," Jesse grumbled, calling Beca's attention back to him.

"I don't take orders from you," she snapped. She scuffed the toe of her boot against the concrete.

"The fuck happened to your hands?"

"The bar is Iron," she explained. "It repels most Fae and ghosts."

"Your hands?" he prompted, waiting for Beca to explain further. She narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

"Iron also happens to be a good deterrent for Wytches as well." She stared at Jesse as he seemed to be reconsidering her. She fought the urge to fidget under his heavy gaze.

"You good?" he finally asked her, breaking the spell. Beca scoffed at the question, considering Jesse was the one on his knees with a hole torn in his shirt. She glanced down at her blistered palms. They ached, but she would be okay as soon as she mixed a salve from some of the herbs she had back at her home. The skin would be tender for a few days, but her Hunter and Wytch blood would help her heal faster than a regular human.

"I'll be fine," she told him.

"How did you figure out-"

"I used to be a Hunter," she answered cutting him off. "I know how to spot a Glamour. Now, are you just gonna spend the rest if the evening kneeling in this parking lot?" Jesse sighed in annoyance at her before hauling himself up to his feet. Beca watched him dust the dirt off of his knees, suddenly feeling awkward. It was disconcerting. Usually, following a fight with her hunting partners, there was a deeper sense of camaraderie, a deep feeling of being connected to your partners-to the people who fought and died by your side. There was no awkwardness with people who knew your movements and reactions well enough to fight in perfect synchronicity. It made her feel lonely. "So," she spoke to break the silence, drawing out the word. "do I need to walk you home or can you make it there without being attacked?" Jesse laughed lightly.

"No, I think I-" he stopped sentence abruptly and grunted, grabbing his chest.

"Jesse?" Beca called out, watching him with worry. He staggered a step before dropping once more to his knees. Beca knelt down and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Jesse, what's wrong?"

"My chest…his knife," Jesse groaned. "I think it was coated with poison." Beca put her fingers to where his shirt had been shredded from Sylvann's blade. She parted the fabric and peered at Jesse's flesh. With his healing abilities as a Vampire, the blood should have been clotted, the skin just starting to knit back together. But there were no signs of healing. If possible the wound looked worse. The skin around the wound was starting to blacken. If the blade really did have poison on it and it had gotten into his system Jesse would most likely die.

****Translations

No me asustas- You don't frighten me

Ahora-Now


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, here's the second half of the flashback. Let me know what you think.**

*** _flashback continued…_

Hours upon hours of studying had taught Beca many things about the monsters and demons that she hunted. Thousands of remedies for bites, cures for curses, and-most importantly-weaknesses of countless species of Underworlders, all written down and catalogued in the Academy Archives.

After a less than stellar start to her official foray into her education and training, Beca had sought out ways to improve by learning as much as she could about how to fight Underworlders. How to kill the creatures that fed upon and terrorized humans in the shadows. She was a quick study and soon rose in the academic ranks of her peers. Beca learned much about Underworlders and made sure to drive every crucial point permanently into her memory.

At that moment, seeing Jesse's wound and repeating his words about Sylvann's blade being poisoned, Beca wracked her brain to recall all she could aboutVampires. About Vampiric weaknesses. Contrary to popular legend, Vampires weren't undead corpses, reanimated by magic. They were living, breathing humans, warped and changed by a demonic blood born curse. Vampires, for all their strength and miraculous healing abilities, were exceptionally vulnerable to certain poisons. Jesse's only hope was to have the poison purged from his system. But, of course, there hadn't been anything like that in any of the thick leather bound tomes Beca had read in the Archives. There had never been any reason to learn how to save an Underworlder. Jesse cursed in pain, pushing her away and doubling over.

"Shit," Beca hissed, tying to quell the panic bubbling within her. She could hear Jesse's breathing becoming labored. Making a split decision she shoved her hand into the pocket of her jeans, gritting her teeth at the pain in her palm, closing her fingers around the two stones inside. She withdrew her hand held it out in front of her, opening it to look at the crystals. The clear quartz would do her no good, it was meant for simply amplifying her powers. But the canary yellow rock- yellow fluorite-was meant specifically for healing. Beca plucked the quartz from her palm and shoved it back down into her pocket while concentrating on channeling her magic into the fluorite. She knelt behind Jesse, pulling him back so that he was leaning against her and held the stone over him.

"I need you to hold still," she commanded. "I'm not…exactly sure if this will work on you. I only know how to kill vampires, not heal them." Beca paused, looking down to meet Jesse's uncertain stare. "But I can't think of anything else. I don't…I don't think this will kill you." She released the hold she had on her magic and felt the stone heat and vibrate in her hand.

"What? Wait!" Jesse cried, trying to pull away from her. Beca tightened her grip and pressed the fluorite quickly to his wound. Jesse gasped and twitched as the stone touched his wound. Suddenly she could feel his whole body tense and hear his teeth snap together. He groaned loudly as if he longed to be screaming.

"Hold on," she told him. "just…a little longer."

"S-stop!" he gritted out through his clenched teeth. "STOP!" Beca wrapped her free arm around his chest to try to keep him still until the spell was done. Jesse's hands latched on to her arm, squeezing hard and trying to free himself. His grip hurt and Beca suddenly felt something snapping in her forearm, sending lightning bolts of pain through her. But she still held on, counting the seconds, waiting for the stone to finish its job. Finally, after what felt like forever, the vibrating stopped and the yellow fluorite went cold and still in her palm. Jesse went limp and Beca looked down at him. His eyes were closed. She quickly checked him to make sure she hadn't killed him, feeling his neck for a pulse.

It was weak and erratic, but it was there, thrumming just beneath her fingertips. She exhaled the breath she didn't realize she was holding. Jesse wasn't dead. Just unconscious. But she couldn't leave him out in the open and she had no idea where he lived. Beca shook her head and sighed.

"My place it is, then," she grunted. She reached with both hands to grab Jesse's jacket so she could haul him onto her back, but yelped when she felt pain shooting up from her left forearm. "Fuck!" she hissed. "Of course. Wouldn't want to make this easy." Beca shook her head in annoyance she gritted her teeth and tried her best to ignore the pain and reached out for Jesse again. She struggled to lift him with her good arm, ignoring the sting in her still blistered palm, crouching down and having to shuffle under him since her left hand couldn't grip his jacket, and maneuvering herself under his arm so that she could support his weight as she half walked, half dragged, him back to her apartment. What should have taken just fifteen minutes of brisk walking took more than forty five minutes. And now, the night had moved passed chilly to decidedly cold. Beca cursed at Jesse under her breath the entire way.

When they finally reached her small apartment, Beca unlocked the door quickly-gingerly fishing her keys from her pocket-and dragged him inside. She eased Jesse on to her couch before going back to her room to gather more fluorite. Her forearm and palms were screaming at her as she swung her bedroom door open, begging to be paid attention to first. She looked down at herself momentarily. Some of the blisters on her right palm had burst. There wasn't much swelling to her forearm, but she could see bruises forming in the shape of fingers. Probably a fracture, she guessed. Easy enough to fix. It took almost every ounce of self-control not to pause and heal herself first. She could wait. Jesse, however, could not. Sighing heavily, she glanced to the other side of her room.

Beca's room was plain, non-descript. She had no personal items, no dresser nor vanity-no need since she had a closet. There were no pictures in her room, no memorabilia. Nothing frivolous, because frivolous things were hard to leave behind. In fact, besides her bed, there was no furniture besides and old oak cellarette she bought for practically nothing at a Going Out of Business sale at a furniture store. She'd originally intended to only purchase her bed, but when she had looked over and seen the wooden chest she knew she had to have it. Had it been bought by a normal person, Beca was sure it would have made a beautiful addition to a typical household, storing bottles of alcohol and maybe even some pretty crystal Brandy decanter and matching tumblers. As it was, Beca had purchased it and immediately lined up her herbs, dried flowers, and stones and even the ancient athame she'd received as a coming of age gift from her father inside.

Taking a breath to steady her frayed nerves, Beca marched across her room to the cellarette and opened it with her right hand. Her eyes skimmed quickly over the collection stones and crystals, quickly picking up what she needed. She peered down at the stones in hand, making a mental note to restock on yellow fluorite. Soon. She turned around and crossed back to her door, closing it after she exited her room. Jesse was still laying on the couch, his face a pale grey. Another breath, squaring her shoulders for good measure, Beca walked to the side of the couch. Kneeling down, she dropped all but one stone to the floor next to her and began to focus her magic.

Two hours later, Beca wiped sweat from her brow. She panted heavily as he tried to keep her hands from shaking. She dropped the last crystal onto the pile of other used stones.

"Please," Jesse groaned as he lay on Beca's dilapidated couch. "N-no more. I...I don't think I can take any more."

"Don't worry," she replied, her voice cracking with fatigue as she moved her legs, stiff from kneeling for so long, and maneuvered herself to sit on her bottom and lean back against the base of the couch for support. "I couldn't cast another spell even if I wanted to." She peeked at the wound through the tattered fabric of Jesse's shirt. While the fluorite had siphoned away most of the poison, she did not have enough power, nor energy, to help him heal.

Her gaze moved to his face. His breath came in shallow, shaky gasps and his eyes her half lidded, and his body tremored and jerked intermittently. The wound on his chest, while no longer blackened around the edges, still seeping blood. Beca was at a loss. "I don't know what else to do," she admitted, blowing the hair out of her face. She longed to pull it up into a pony tail, but her palms were still blistered and her left forearm was throbbing with pain in time with her heartbeat. Jesse cracked an eye and met her gaze.

"Necesito sangre."

"I don't know what that means, Jesse. I don't speak Spanish."

"I need..." Beca brought herself once more to her knees and leaned forward as his voice trailed off to an inaudible mumble.

"What?" She urged. She could see his lips moving and she brought her face closer to his hoping to catch what he was trying to say. "Jesse," she called, trying to get him to repeat himself. Suddenly, her head was yanked back, a hand fisting her hair painfully. Beca gasped in shock, her hands flying to the hand assaulting her scalp, trying to free herself. Her breath was suddenly cut short as another hand wrapped around her throat. Beca stilled her struggles as she felt a puff of warm air whisper along the skin of her cheek.

"I said… _I need blood_ ," Jesse's voice was ragged and the hand tightened even more around her poor abused neck. Beca's eyes went wide and she tried desperately to pull herself free. Jesse's lips were at her neck and Beca yelped in pain and surprise as she felt his teeth sink slowly into her skin.

It was suffocating, Beca decided somewhere in the back of her mind, to be fed upon by a vampire. She could pull breath into her lungs, but the blood being pulled from the artery in her neck made her feel dizzy and unable to catch her breath.

At first she tried to push Jesse away but his grip was too strong, and with only had one good arm and no strength left, she was no match. She tried pulling away but the pain in her neck was excruciating and Jesse only pulled her closer, bringing her flush to his body as he moved off of the couch. She tried to call out to him but she couldn't muster anything more than a whisper.

Beca brought her hands up to his shoulders, her good hand fisting in the fabric of his ruined shirt. To her dismay her body had begun to shake. **_I must be going into shock_** , she thought distantly. She could hear someone gasping and realized that it was her. She heard Jesse groan in pleasure and then the pain began to subside. Beca could feel the muscles in her body relax, including her clenched fist. She noticed that Jesse was no longer yanking her head back by her hair; but rather, he was cradling her head in his hand. And just when had the hand around her throat moved to the small of her back? He groaned again, pulling back slightly, licking the wound at her neck lazily.

"You...your blood," he spoke breathily and Beca felt her body shiver. "It's so...strong. It's like I can taste your magic." He returned his lips to her neck and Beca gasped. She could feel his body temperature rising as he fed from her. But instead of the suffocating pain of losing blood, the glamour he wove with in her mind had her sighing in pleasure.

Beca no longer had a sense of time, had no idea if it was seconds or hours passing, so caught up was she in her surrender and the way Jesse was making her feel. Her body felt electric, every nerve seeming to tingle and pulse with pleasure.

And then Jesse was pulling away from her. The glamour flickered and winked out like a candle flame. Immediately, a heaviness settled over her body and Beca felt herself falling bonelessly to the floor. She drew in a shallow, gasping breath. Her muscles screamed with fatigue and her heart hammered so loudly she could barely hear anything over it. The suffocating feeling was back.

 ** _I think I'd prefer to drained,_** **_completely_** , Beca thought bitterly, **_than to be left feeling like this_**. Before any more bitter thoughts could cross her mind Jesse's hand was behind her head once more. She felt her self being pulled into a sitting position and closed her eyes as her vision reeled with the movement. Beca squeezed her eyes shut as the room somersaulted.

"Beca," Jesse called, his voice still rough. "Open your eyes." She pulled in another rasping breath before complying. There, right in front of her face, was Jesse's wrist, blood seeping from what looked like a bite. Revulsion must have colored her features because he began to explain in an annoyed voice. "Well, you don't have to, but your neck is still bleeding and you are a few pints short. It's your choice." Beca sighed, closing her eyes. He was right. Her body would heal itself, but it would take days to recuperate. Vampire blood carried healing qualities that transferred temporarily to anyone who consumed it. What Jesse was offering was a quick fix with relatively few side effects. As long as she didn't drink too much. Or die while it was still in her system.

Keeping her eyes closed she reached for Jesse's wrist and brought it to her mouth. Parting her trembling lips, she placed them gingerly over the bleeding punctures and took a hesitant pull, the suction bringing the tangy taste of blood into her mouth. **_Swallow!_** She ordered herself. She did. And she repeated the action of sucking more blood from the gash in Jesse's wrist into her mouth. This time, when the blood hit her tongue, Beca felt a hunger…a strong _thirst_ jolt through her. She brought her other hand to grasp tightly at Jesse's wrist and began to suck harder, pull more of his blood into her mouth and swallowing quickly. She groaned at the pulse that went through her body, tingling in her fingertips and her toes. She could feel her body heat rising, her heart racing with each gulp. And then, quite abruptly, Jesse pulled his wrist from her mouth, twisting out of her grasping hands.

"Shit," he swore. "Down, girl, that's enough." Beca's eyes flew open and she had to fight to beg for more.

"I'm sorry," she panted, trying to catch her breath. "I don't know..."

"It happens," Jesse dismissed, wiping the remaining blood onto his ruined shirt. Beca glanced down at herself. She was stained nearly head to toe in blood, most of it Jesse's. She shook her head in defeat, turning her attention to her own injuries. She looked down at the forearm Jesse had snapped in the throes of his agony, only to see that the bruises and swelling was gone, as was the pain. She flexed her fingers and made a fist in wonder. She brought her hands up to look at her palms, only to see perfectly pink and smooth skin. Even the callouses from years of wielding weaponry were gone.

Next she brought her fingers up to where Jesse's fangs had torn into the flesh of her neck. Besides being somewhat sensitive, there was no trace of injury. She looked back up at him in wonder. He had moved to sit on the edge of the couch, running a hand through his hair and sighing heavily.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why what?"

"Why did you give me your blood? Why did you heal me? Why didn't you drink all of my blood?" Her questions rushed out of her before she could wrangle her words. Jesse turned his face to her, his features colored with disgust.

"I'm flattered that you think so highly of me as to assume that I would kill someone who just saved my ass," he spat. Beca blanched.

"I didn't mean-uh...I just," she sputtered, backpedaling. "I'm sorry." She watched as Jesse rolled his eyes. He looked back at Beca with a searing gaze.

"Why did you do it?" He asked, his voice barely a murmur. "Why did you save me? You could have just let me die." **_Good question_** , Beca thought. Why _had_ she saved him? If she had simply left, or just not intervened with Sylvann's attack…Jesse might have been killed, taking his knowledge of Beca with him to the grave. Beca chewed on her lip as she considered.

Jesse was crude, uncaring, and downright rude to her most of the time. He constantly had some joke or barb about her being a failed hunter. But he had kept her secret for her. And she was kidding herself if she didn't admit that that had probably lengthened her life span as a runaway Hunter in the midst of The Guild's territory. Plus…

"Maybe because you the closest thing I have to a friend," Beca replied quietly. Jesse continued to stare at her. She was starting to feel uncomfortable under his intense gaze. Just when she thought she could stand the tension no longer, he twisted his body to lay lengthwise across the couch, turning his face toward the ceiling.

"You should go get some rest," he told her blandly. Beca blinked, not quite sure she understood.

"Wha?" Beca asked, confused.

"I'm just gonna crash here for the night." And with no further explanation, Jesse folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes. Beca stared for a few more seconds before standing stiffly and walking into her bedroom. _**Whatever,**_ she told herself. _**He'll be gone after tonight.**_

 **Translations/definitions:**

 ****An Athame is a double bladed knife often with a black handle that is used like a wand. It's point functions much like the top of a pyramid, energy concentrates at the blade tip and runs down both edges to the hand and arm of the person using it. Similarly, it can direct energy out of the body into the environment.**

 ****A cellarette or cellaret is a small furniture cabinet, available in various sizes and shapes, which is used to store bottles of alcoholic beverages (e.g., wine, whiskey). They are found in many different designs.**

 **** Necesito sangre-I need blood**


	5. Chapter 5

**It's been a while since I last updated. I feel so bad, but between two jobs and family, it's been hard to find time to write. Also, my dog, my best friend for the last 10 years died. It was sudden and awful and I'm still pretty torn up about it. So, I'm sorry about how long it took to get this chapter up. Hopefully it won't be so long before the next. Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think.**

"That was...actually kinda fun!" Beca sighed as took a sip from her glass, one of those cider drinks. When she ordered it, Jesse had stared at her in shock, saying how surprising it was that Beca would drink something so _frou frou_. He'd earned one of her glares for that retort, but it lacked its standard venom.

"Yeah, you keep saying that," Jesse chuckled, taking a long pull from his pilsner. She shrugged, a small smile pulling the corners of her mouth up. Jesse could hardly believe the difference in not only her demeanor but also her physical appearance. He couldn't help staring across the table at her as she took another drink from her cider. She was more at ease than he'd ever seen her.

Relaxed had never been a description one could apply to Beca. For as long as he'd known her she had been jumpy and nervous, her eyes constantly taking in her surroundings, looking for any potential dangers. No one could bat their eyelashes without her noticing the movement. Even when she slept, Beca was restless, her constant shifting and startling awake loud enough for him to hear while he hung out in her living room.

It was understandable, of course, given that she was in hiding from her own kind and persona non grata to any Underworlders who might discover what she really was. The onyx pendant she wore to dampen the power of her aura also dampened her magic, making her little better than human. And Beca had far too many enemies to allow herself to be caught off guard while in such a weakened state. She'd even been hesitant to take the pendant off before the fight, weighing aloud to Jesse for nearly an hour, the pros and cons of being without it. It had taken him suggesting that she keep it on until the found Sylvan and then tucking into her pocket to finally get her to stop fretting over it.

But here, before him in that very instant? The only thing Beca seemed keen to pay attention to was the amount of alcohol in her glass. And Jesse. He'd caught her staring at him more than once since they sat in the booth in the lively bar-they'd chosen a busy, human establishment hoping to steer clear of any Underworlders. Of course, he'd been sneaking glances at her too. He couldn't help himself; it was unsettling to take in the difference in her demeanor in the afterglow of their battle.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed, though from the drink or from the fight a few hours earlier, he wasn't really sure. Even her eyes seemed brighter than normal. And, since she hadn't put her pendant back on, Jesse took the opportunity to secretly appraise this new version of Beca before him while she was without her usual Glamour.

First and foremost, the biggest difference was her eyes. They were large and expressive and, inarguably, breathtakingly beautiful when she shook her hair back from her face. They were no longer navy blue, but a deep amethyst with bright gold surrounding the irises-a side effect from using Wytch magik she'd explained when he'd asked about it. Even her hair was different. Instead of being the dull, lanky brown Jesse was used to seeing, it was a silky curtain of mahogany that fell in glossy waves, down past her shoulders. But it was the air around her, the very aura she exuded that was the most distracting. He now understood why she always wore her Onyx.

She was hard to ignore. Even the humans seemed drawn to her, he'd caught more than a few of the humans around them staring. Being near her like this was sort of like being a little too close to a live wire. Her energy, her power _hummed_ around her. Jesse could almost feel it buzzing on his skin, almost mesmerizing, drawing him in as she turned to look across the bar. The pale skin of her throat practically glowing under the dim lights. Beca's nails were always chipped and chewed down, her lips usually dry and sometimes even chapped. She nearly always wore her hair in a messy bun or ponytail. But that night that she'd saved his life, when his lips were pressed against her throat, the skin there had been warm and soft, breaking beautifully beneath his fangs. Perhaps, if he hadn't been dying then, he may have taken the time to savor the feeling of her smooth flesh against his hungry lips...He forced his gaze way from her as she swung her face back to look back at him. He let his thoughts wander back to earlier that evening.

He had seen her fight before and there was no doubt she was skilled. She was quick on her feet and fast with her reactions. Every move she made was obviously a calculated action, specifically for inflicting optimum damage. The days leading up to their attack on the, now very deceased Faerie, Beca had poured over research about Fae. He'd even caught her reading old wives tales, much to his humor. But Beca had dismissed him, telling him that some old wives tales held truths in them.

She had been meticulous in preparing-obtaining a few sprigs of St John's Wart to keep tucked in her pocket to ward off any magic Sylvann or any other Faerie they might encounter might use against her, and even buying a couple of old iron horseshoes at a thrift store and taking them to a shop in the Artisan District across town to have them heated and unbent and sharpened into two rather fascinating daggers.

"Won't your hands blister again?" He'd reminded her. Beca simply pulled on a pair of black gloves. "What are those?"

"Kevlar tactical gloves with leather grips. So, no, my hands won' be getting blistered this time," she answered in monotone before stocking a small pouch full of stones and crystals. She'd been thorough; Jesse had been certain that between the two of them Sylvann wouldn't stand a chance.

Even her choice in clothing had been purposeful. While Jesse simply chose comfortable, dark clothing that he didn't mind getting torn or bloody, and a black hoodie to help hide the part of his face that his mask didn't cover, Beca had chosen each article of clothing for specific reasons. Loose black cargo pants so that she could move freely and utilize the pockets for her stones and herbs. A tactical belt to hold her knives and the two horseshoe daggers. A pair of thin soled sneakers, like the ones used for parkour, to give her feet mobility and the ability to feel the ground beneath her feet and move with more flexibility and traction, she'd explained as she had laced them up. A black, long sleeved t shirt, because it was more comfortable. She had even braided her hair back out of her face so that it wouldn't be swinging in her face and obstructing her vision. There was no detail she hadn't thought of.

But what Jesse had failed to take into account was that they both had very different ways of fighting and very little experience fighting alongside each other. Beca was used to fighting as a part of a unit, working in tandem with another person. Jesse was not. He was a solo killer. An assassin, one of the best working for The Guild. And despite their obvious skill as individuals, they did not fight well as a team.

In fact, Beca had very nearly killed him with one of her crystals when he stepped between her and their quarry. Not to mention, he had neglected to watch out for her when she left herself open to channel a spell into a stone. His eyes flicked to the slashed fabric across her right bicep. The wound wasn't serious, luckily missing the muscle by mere millimeters. But Beca had bled. A lot. Her choice of black was fortuitous, as it hid the blood that had soaked through the fabric of her shirt. No, they did not pair well together as fighters.

But he could see too much profit in using Beca. With her cooperation, Jesse would be able to take on more difficult assignments and make more money.

"Were you this creepy when you were human, or is that a trait you develope when you become a vampire?" Beca asked smoothly before taking another sip of her drink. Jesse smiled slyly, realizing he'd finally been caught staring at her.

"It's hard not to stare," he admitted, his voice so low that she had to lean forward to hear him. She blinked in confusion at his statement. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile in earnest before." He watched as her cheeks flushed. She cleared her throat before replying.

"W-well, why wouldn't I smile? As of tonight I no longer have an unwanted house guest." Jesse rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Besides, you're one to talk," she countered. "the only time you smile in earnest is when your killing something. " He grunted, bringing his beer to his lips.

"It is my job, after all. And I'm really fucking good at it." Beca chuckled.

"You really need a hobby, Jesse. There's a lot more to life than fighting and killing."

"This coming from the woman who does nothing but work at a bar and hang out at her apartment with a vampire."

"That is completely false," Beca sniffed indignantly. "I make several trips to the store to get groceries and get more herbs and stones. And sometimes Stacy drags me to her place to hang out with her and her family."

"You've hung out with Stacy's family?" Jesse asked in disbelief. Beca shrugged.

"She's Lycanthrope-"

"Don't say that, no one but Hunters and the Ancients at The Guild call Werewolves Lycanthropes. It's overly technical and…weird," Jesse interrupted. Beca sighed at him, cocking her eyebrow in annoyance.

"Stacy and her family are… _Werewolves_ ," she amended. "which are pack oriented. They usually live with or close by their family and pack members. Their ranch is actually kinda nice. Really big, lots of land just twenty minutes outside of the city. Her cousins are really nice. Did you know that Cooper, the bouncer for the Wolfe Trappe , is actually her older brother. And she has a twin sister? I've never really met her, but apparently she is nothing like Stacy and-"

"Jesus, Beca. Four of those frilly beers and you suddenly turn into Chatty Cathy," Jesse laughed, interrupting her. Beca cocked her head.

"Who's Chatty Cathy?" she questioned.

"What? You've never heard of Chatty Cathy?"

"Well, I don't own a TV and I don't really have any patience for magazines-"

"Chatty Cathy was a doll."

"A…a doll?" Beca pressed, looking more confused than before.

"Yeah…uh…it was…really popular in the sixties. You've seriously never heard of this doll?"

"I didn't have much time to play with dolls. Unless you count sparring dummies."

"Sparring…dummies?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows. Beca's cheeks pinked again.

"Yes. Every Hunter starts out using a sparring dummy to practice their attacks until they gain enough experience to move on to targets that can fight back."

"Some childhood. How many Hunters grow up to be serial killers?"

"Well, a successful Hunter is one who is…prolific at killing," Beca replied slowly.

"Sooo, all of you, huh?" Jesse chuckled shaking his head. He saw her roll her eyes in annoyance. The next few minutes were filled with an awkward silence. Jesse traced his finger around the rim of his pilsner, sweeping his gaze around the bar.

"When I was four, I…uh…I told my parents that I…wanted to be a…ballerina." Jesse swung his gaze back to Beca, who was studying to table top. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Huh?"

"When I was four, I told my parents that I wanted to be a ballerina," she repeated. "when I grew up. I didn't want to be a Hunter. I mean, I didn't really realize that I wasn't like other kids. So, I thought that I could-well…I thought that…you know…I could be a ballerina. Um…"

Jesse stared at her, trying to imagine a young Beca, maybe with pigtails or a frilly bow, wearing a pink leotard and a tutu. He snorted.

"You're tits are too big," he snorted. "There's no way you could be a ballerina with knockers like tha-OW! Jesusfuck, what was that for?" Jesse leaned over to rub the shin that Beca had savagely kicked under the table.

"Don't be a dick," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and blushing. "Anyways, what did you want to be when you were a kid?"

"Exactly what I am, right now," he replied quickly, picking up his beer to take another drink. He could practically feel Beca rolling her eyes.

"A semi-psychotic, misogynist Vampire assassin?"

"A bad ass mother fucker."

"How do you manage to stay so humble?" she quipped and Jesse chuckled.

"What can I say, I'm really good at what I do. Besides, nothing makes you feel more alive than killing something." He watched as Beca's gaze bored into him. "What, too fucked up?" he chuckled.

"Actually, no," she replied, her voice soft. "I was just thinking…I used to think the same way…after a fight."

"After a fight?"

"After I'd…killed something." Beca cleared her throat and lifted her drink to her lips. Jesse watched her, wondering about the far off look in her gaze.

"Can I get you another, Sugar?" Both Jesse and Beca jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of the waitress beside their table.

"Uh…I'll have…another. Thanks," Beca replied halthingly, glancing down at her nearly finished beer. The waitress glanced at Jesse and flashed what he supposed was her version of a charming smile.

"How about you, Hon'?" she asked sweetly.

"You get a lot of tips, using cutsey nicknames on your customers?" Jesse asked, smirking up at the waitress.

"Jesse!" Beca admonished, lashing out under the table at him once more. Jesse moved his shins out of the way just in time, still smirking up at the waitress.

"Actually, _Sweety_ ," the waitress replied, still smiling, "I find that plying my customers with booze and not calling them out on staring at my tits gets me all the tips I need. Now, can I get you another beer?" Jesse chuckled, leaning back against the worn out pleather cushion of the booth.

"Touche," he relented, nodding to the waitress. "I'll have another."

"Alright, I'll be right back with those," she sing-songed, spinning on her heels and sauntering away from their table.

"Gods, are you a dick to _everybody_?" Beca huffed. Jesse swung his gaze back to her, his smirk still stretched across his face.

"You didn't honestly think you were the only one, where you?"

"I just don't want to worry about whether the head on my beer is just foam or spit." Jesse laughed at her. "Just out of professional curiosity, where you a dick when you were human too? Or were you made this way?" she growled, glowering at him. He stared at her for a moment, her words jogging dark memories that he normally kept buried deep.

"I am exactly what I was made to be," Jesse's tone was dark, calling Beca's full attention to him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he watched as she turned her gaze upon him, studying him. He sighed heavily. He knew that look by now. That piercing stare meant that she would pester him until he elaborated. Taking a long drink to finish his beer, Jesse gathered his thoughts. Where to even begin?

"When I was human," he started and then paused. How could he quantify what his life was like into something as simple as words? "I…was an angry kid, growing up. My mother was gone and my father, when he wasn't passed out drunk, wasn't really in to being a father. And I didn't really fit in anywhere. Back when I was a kid, society wasn't really as inclusive as it is now…My mom…she was white and my dad came from Spain with his family when he was a kid. I was too white to fit in with the other Latinas and not white enough to fit in with the white kids."

Jesse clenched his jaw reflexively as memories he hadn't thought about in years swirled in his mind. "I never really had any real friends but…I learned early on that I was good at fighting. I fought anyone who pissed me off. At home. At school. Even punched my gym coach once in high school," he shook his head. "Needless to say, back in the seventies, there wasn't really much going for a poor, angry kid with more than a few arrests. So I did what every other poor high school graduate did; I joined the Army. I mean, I probably would have been drafted anyways. Turns out, I actually picked the perfect job. Back then they really liked taking angry boys into angry men and putting a gun in their hand. And when they gave me a weapon," Jesse paused to take another swig of his beer before fixing his eyes on Beca's rapt gaze. "For the first time in my life, I got top marks. Better than everyone else. No one ran faster than me. No one did more pushups than I could. No one could best me in close combat. No one. And I never showed any mercy. I guess that's what caught their eye..."

"Whose?" Beca whispered, entranced. Jesse considered for a moment, wondering just how candid he should be. **_Fuck it, why not_** , he decided with a shrug.

"The Guild." He watched as her jaw went slack with her shock, her pretty purple and gold eyes going wide. "The Guild has been working with human military for decades." He could tell that she was reeling from his words. "Anyways, our side was having some problems out there in the jungles. I guess the Vietnamese had made some kind of deal with some Underworlders working out side of The Guild. I don't know what exactly they paid them but the Vietnamese suddenly had a Hồ tinh…uh…a Nine-Tailed Fox fighting on their side and wreaking havoc on our men. And that made the Guild look bad, I mean, having an Underworlder working outside of Guild orders and sanctions on it's own authority…The Guild needed this to be resolved as much as the American military. So they made a deal with some general. He could pick out six men and the guild would take these human men and turn them into Underworlders. Supernatural Soldier to fight in their stupid war."

"The Army…they made you become a Vampire?" Jesse's vision refocused on Beca's shocked face.

"Nah…they asked me," he replied. "Typical Army fashion. 'Become a Hero. Go above and beyond. Win the war for your country. And I ate it up."

"Alright, kiddies, I got your refills right here!" the waitress trilled, setting Beca's and Jesse's drinks down on the table, startling them both back to earth. "Anything else I can get you?"

"Oh, uh…no thanks," Beca told her, giving a strained smile. The waitress smiled and was gone, moving on to check on other tables. Beca watched her go before turning back to Jesse.

"So…you volunteered to be…turned," she prompted and Jesse sighed heavily.

"What, you want a play-by-play of how I was turned?" he hedged. "You wanna hear about how he fed on me first? How he drew it out, made it as painful as possible, nearly draining me dry, left me gasping for breath and begging for death before he finally turned me." His eyes never left Beca's, watching her inquisitive stare turn to one of horror and the color drained from her face. "Or, how he used a knife to cut me. To stab me. To _gut_ me, and then ripped out my kidney while I screamed. You want me describe the fifteen hours it took before the bastard finally gave me his blood before snapping my neck?"

"They…they let him…do that to you?" Her words were halting and her voice was rough, as though she had trouble forcing them through her lips. Jesse paused, looking down at his fresh drink. He wasn't really thirsty, but he needed a distraction from the horrified look on Beca's face.

"It's an old Vampire superstition that, uh…" Jesse cleared his throat and lifted his pilsner to his lips for a quick swig, still avoiding her gaze. "That the more violent the death, the stronger the fledgling turns out to be."

"What?" Beca cried, her voice shrill. "There's no possible basis for that!"

"I dunno, it seems to have worked out pretty well for me in the end," he said dismissively, a rueful smile pulling the corners of his mouth up.

"But that's…barbaric."

"Any more barbaric than taking kids and teaching them how to kill Chupacabras, or whatever?" he countered.

"Don't be ridiculous," Beca sniffed, taking a drink from her beer. "Chupacabras don't exist." Jesse rolled his eyes.

"You can't possibly expect me to believe that they aren't real. My _Abuelita_ told me she saw one once."

"She probably just saw a coyote with mange and bought into the hype," Beca countered, shaking her head and chuckling. Jesse found himself relaxing at the sight of her smile. "There has never been any proof found that Chupacabras exist."

"That's not really the same as knowing for a fact that they don't exist. Just because no one has found proof that they exist doesn't mean that they don't. Humans have been searching for centuries for proof that Dragons exist, and they still haven't 'found proof'."

"That's because Humans don't know what to look for," Beca dismissed. Then she turned a serious gaze back to Jesse. "So, what happened after you were turned?" Jesse sighed.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" She smiled slyly at him, settling back into the booth.

"Nope," she told him, her lips popping on the end of the word. "Think of it as back rent for squatting in my apartment for the last six months." She brought her drink up to her lips and took a long pull, and Jesse felt himself staring at the way she smiled around the top of her bottle. He sighed.

"After I woke up, they shipped me out. Me and the two guys that survived the transformation. When we got to Saigon, they turned us loose. And we started killing. We killed everything we came across. Enemy soldiers, our own soldiers, and then we found that damn Nine tailed bastard, and we killed him too. And we kept on killing. Villiagers, live stock, any animals we found in that jungle. Hell, I even killed one of the other Vampires with me. I was lost in the blood lust, taken over completely, like some rabid animal. I think I remember thinking that since I was made into a monster, I should just _be_ a monster. I fed whenever I was hungry and didn't bother trying to leave my victims alive. I killed who ever made me mad. I fucked whoever turned me on. I went wherever I felt like going. I didn't care who saw me, or who I killed. Which wasn't exactly in accordance with The Guild's rules. So they began to send out assassins after me. I was to be stopped whatever the cost. I was too dangerous.

"An assassin finally caught up with me in Italy. I had been terrorizing a small town for a week. The demi demon bitch tried to sneak up on me while I was feeding. I killed her in less than 5 minutes. But I didn't know she had a partner. Elias. He shot me with a tranquilizer. When I came to, I was in the Hall of Elders. They were impressed with my fighting ability and offered me a job as an assassin. As long as I kept myself under control and followed Guild Law."

"How long was that after you had been turned?" she asked. Jesse considered for a moment, adding the years up in his head.

"Let's see...I was turned in '75, so...twelve years." Beca shivered and finished her drink. "What about you?"

"Huh?" Beca suddenly squirmed in her seat. Jesse shrugged.

"You got to hear my life story. Now it's your turn. How'd you go from being a Hunter to..." he paused, trying to think of an appropriate description. "Why did you go AWOL?" Jesse watched as she swallowed thickly, her eyes glazing over. She looked panicked, suddenly, her breath hitching.

"I need to use the restroom," she said quickly, sliding out of the booth and moving to stand. "I'll- woah!" She teetered momentarily before pitching forward and Jesse leapt out of the booth to catch her. He slipped his hands under her arms and halted her fall.

"Everything okay, Bec?"

"I…uh," she looked up at Jesse sheepishly. "I think it's time I tabbed out," she finished lamely. Jesse stared down at her in surprise. The panic was gone from her features, but her eyes were still glazed.

"Are you drunk?" he asked. She blinked slowly.

"I'm…," she paused, and Jesse could see her rolling her answer around in her head before she spoke. "Yes. Yes, I think I am definitely drunk."

"You _think_?"

"Well, I've never really been drunk before…"

"What!"

"An Incapacitated Hunter is a dead Hunter," Beca grumbled as Jesse helped her right herself.

"Is everything alright here?" The waitress was back, her bubbly voice sounding behind Jesse. He turned to look at her.

"Yeah, I think my friend has had enough. How much do I owe you for the drinks?" From the corner of his eye, he saw Beca shoot a sheepish glance over her shoulder at him.

"Forty dollars, Sugar." He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and retrieving two twenties and a five. He passed it to the waitress, telling her to keep the change.

"You ready to go, Party Animal?" he asked, turning back to Beca. She glared at him over her shoulder.

"No need to be patronizing," she growled indignantly, heading towards the door. She took exactly three steps before the toe of her shoe caught on something. She pitched forward but before she fell, Jesse caught her arm, righting her and tucking her against his side.

"Come on, Clumsy. I'll take you home." Bece stared at the ground, face red with embarrassment. "Don't worry Bec," he chuckled softly. "I'm pretty sure I owe you for dragging my half-dead ass back to your apartment, anyways." She grunted in reply and Jesse felt her head lean against his, her cheek resting against the fabric of his leather jacket. She inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent.

"You smell nice," she murmured. He stared down at her, walking her out through the door of the bar and out into the humid night air

Translations:

Abuelita-Granny


End file.
